AN: I was talking to my friend while I was trying to write another story. This is what came out of the conversation: disco, the hustle, evade, and punched in the face. So, I took those thoughts, gave up on the story I originally tried to start writing, and wrote this...thing...whatever you call it. I don't own the people, nor the dances that are mentioned, nor the movie mentioned. Enjoy!

"I prefer the hustle."

"The hustle?"

"Yeah! You know! Do the hustle!" Breaking out into the aforementioned dance.

"Very nice." Smirking at the dance his partner was doing. "Personally, I prefer the disco." She looked thoughtful for a second, then,

"What kind of disco?" He looked at her funnily. "Well, disco is a genre of music, not a dance."

"Oh."

"You didn't know that?" He shook his head. "I know something you don't know! This is pretty cool."

"Moving on…"

"Right, so?"

"It's in that movie. Oh, what is it? Saturday Night Fever. He does the arm thingy." She snorted, instantly understanding what he was talking about.

"That?!" He looked hurt.

"I didn't laugh at your choice of dance. I don't get why you're laughing at mine."

"Well. I didn't peg you as a disco person. I thought of you more as a Charleston dance person." He placed his hand against his heart, looking severely wounded.

"I'm wounded. Really. I feel like I was punched in the face or in the gut. That's were you hurt me." He tapped his stomach. "Right here." He whispered the last part. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Puh-lease. Like you would let some petty joke get to you."

"It's not just joking. For all you know, you could've just wounded me for the rest of my life." She looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"You were listening to the talk show radio stations again." She said this as a comment rather than a question. He nodded. "I've told you time and time again. Those stations are corrupting your mind. Eating away what little parts that are left of your brain that the TV and the computers haven't already claimed. I've seen good people go down after spending too much time on the computer…very ugly." She nodded resolutely after finishing. They both looked deep in thought for a few seconds when she talked again. "I suppose the disco scene would work for you." She tilted her head to the side. "Do it." He choked on the coffee he was drinking.

"What?!"

"Come on. I did the hustle. The least you could do is the dance." He sighed and stood up. He started to do the arm thingy, with his finger pointing to the sky and then pointing it to the ground. He then repeated the process, except this time he bobbed his head in time with the music that was only heard by him. He stopped when he finally open his eyes again, blushing a deep red. She started clapping.

"Bravo! Bravo!" He plopped back down into his seat, highly embarrassed. "Damn! What have I been missing? You can dance!" He hunched further into his chair.

"Please don't make me do that again here." She snickered.

"But you'll do it at a club? Of course, you'll need to learn some more modern dances, but I think you can do it." She smiled.

"I'll just have to evade your dance tactics." She pouted.

"So you'll ballroom dance, but you won't go to a club? For shame." He glared at her.

"I just have a different taste in where I go to dance than you." She propped her chin on her hand.

"Booger." His head snapped up to her face and he scowled at her.

"I'll have you know," He started, trying valiantly not to laugh at the expression that his partner was making. "That I will not be lowered to such…such…vulgarity." He looked confused for a second, wondering what had just come out of his mouth, when she broke out laughing.

"What are you laughing at, Eames?" She was gasping from a lack of oxygen when the Captain spoke up.

"It's not funny." He whined. "Captain, she just called me a booger." The captain raised his eyebrows.

"And what do you plan to do about it, Goren?" He scowled at the captain before turning back to Eames.

"You, Eames, are a…a…poop." This set her off on another set of laughter with him soon following. The captain shook his head as he walked away, listening to the pealing laughter coming out of his star detectives.

"Great comeback Goren." He mumbled to himself, wondering what had gotten into them.

AN: I'll love more than air and processed food if you review. Please?